The Suicide of Sollux Captor
by SpaggyB
Summary: Title says it all. THIS POST MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE! IF YOU ARE EASILY AFFECTED BY DEPRESSION, PSYCHOSIS, SUICIDE, SELF HARM OR ANYTHING RELATED, PLEASE DO NOT READ!


**A/N: THIS STORY MAY BE TRIGGERING! IF YOU ARE EASILY AFFECTED BY DEPRESSION, SELF HARM, PSYCHOSIS, SUICIDE, SELF MUTILATION OR ANY THING RELATED, I URGE YOU NOT TO READ THIS! PLEASE GO BACK TO THE PREVIOUS PAGE AND FIND A FLUFF STORY OR A HUMOUROUS SPAT BETWEEN YOUR OTP! PLEASE! **

**I DO NOT OWN THIS CHARACTER. **

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The voices. The voices had led him to this moment.

He couldnt stop the voices. He couldnt control them. They haunted him, followed him where ever he went, darkened his days and made his nights cold and restless. They whispered to him, assaulted him, trapped within his head, burning words into his mind, twisting his perception of reality. He couldnt control them, and they wore him down, mercilessly eating away at his sanity. The voices no one else could hear.

He was isolated, alone, completely torn away from the normalities of life. For sweeps he had tried to ignore them, pushing them aside so that he could function within society, develop friendships and be anything but what they told him he was. He blasted music, meditated, exercised, tried desperately to distract himself enough to pretend they weren't there, but every night when he lay down to sleep, the voices would return in the silence, speaking to him of doom and destruction. And every night they would follow him into his dreams, turning them to nightmares, torturing his mind, unable to rest, unable to wake. He was permanently imprisoned in a hellish cage, unable to live or die.

Music soon turned to blades, meditation becoming warm rivers of golden blood seeping from his torn flesh, snaking patterns down his ashen skin. Many a night he could be found sprawled on the bathroom floor, his body weak and frail, his eyes blank and staring as the sting of the blade took his mind to empty places. As these nights grew more numerous, the wounds grew deeper, longer, harsher. His desperation to cease the torment overwhelming the pain and weakness of self mutilation. His mind grew dependant as his body withered away.

As he grew older, they grew louder. The whispers turned to shrieks, the softly uttered words turned to incomprehensible screams of terror and anguish. He became a monster. He couldnt eat, so he became thin. He couldnt sleep, and began to spend his blood filled nights sitting on the floor of his room, his head in his gold soaked hands, his eyes wide and staring into the abyss as the voices tore at his psyche, the harsh words like claws tearing away at his soul. He grew tired, oh so tired, and every moment brought him that much closer to the edge. The edge on which he now stood.

He could no longer stand it. He could no longer escape the torment of living with the haunting melody ringing in his head day and night. He had tried to go on, tried to find a way to make it bearable, but not even the cold slice of steel through his flesh could help him now. His mind ached, his body ached, his life was in ruins and he could no longer hold it together.

His sanity had abandoned him.

His breath was calm as he lay on the cold tiled floor of his bathroom, his wide eyes staring absently into nothingness. It had been done, and there was no turning back. The voices that had drove him to this night screamed at him, shrieked in their unruly way, but tonight they went unheard. It was done. He was done.

He closed his eyes as the blood thickened, swirling around him, creating a pool of golden warm on the tiles. He turned his head, smiling lazily as he watched it spiral down the drain, the edges of his vision growing blurry, the darkness creeping in to steal him away. Finally, he was free. No longer would he live with the constant echo of invasion in his mind. No longer would he be haunted in his sleep, pursued in his days, berated, beaten and bloodied by a hell reserved for him alone. He was dying, and he was blissful.

Sollux took his final breath, a rasping, shuddering tear through his throat. His heart beat an erratic, pounding rhythm in his chest, and his body jerked in protest to its imminent demise. As the world faded to black, he smiled, free at last.


End file.
